Fatal Mistakes
by SherlockItsOnlyLogical
Summary: John can't contact Sherlock. It's been several hours and the detective is still unresponsive to his text messages. He rushes to the flat to find something that will scar his memory and change his life forever.


John took out his phone for the sixth time in the last two hours and texted Sherlock. "Sherlock, Lestrade said he has been trying to get a hold of you all day. Are you alright? -JW"

Sherlock very slightly heard his phone go off through the haze of his mind. Part of him knew it was John and that John was probably worrying. But another part of him said that thinking that was irrational. John didn't care. John had left him. Sherlock took another hit of a drug he couldn't remember the name of. The name didn't matter. It helped the pain.

John rested his elbows on his knees gripping his phone in both of his hands tapping his thumbs on the screen waiting for a reply. But after 15 minutes without one he stood up. "Mary I'm going to check on Sherlock, I don't know when I'll be home, don't wait up." He called pulling on his coat before sending another text reading. "I'm on my way over -JW"

It didn't matter that Sherlock's phone rang again. He didn't hear it. He had gone under nearly 10 minutes earlier.

Again, without a reply from Sherlock the pit of his stomach twisted. It was taking far too long for him to haul a cab. As minutes ticked by and he became more and more anxious. "Oh Hell." he said finally breaking into a full on sprint towards the flat. If he kept at this pace it would take him somewhere around 15 minutes to get there. He knew something was wrong. He had to get to Sherlock.

Sherlock was lying on the couch, blacked out. He had felt it coming and welcomed it with open arms. Nothing mattered any more. The only man he would ever care about didn't care about him. At least not in the same way. Not in the way he wanted him too. He didn't want to live without John there with him. He just simply could not.

All John could focus on was the thump of his feet on the pavement like the second hand on the clock ticking as time passed by. He skidded to a stop in front of 221B twisting the handle slamming the door behind him as he rushed up the stairs. "Sherlock? Sherlock I'm here! I'm coming" He called.

Sherlock was slipping deeper and deeper into the darkness. Even within his deep subconscious, he could sense that he had only so long left. He hoped when someone found him that it wouldn't be John or Mrs. Hudson. That was the last thing that he wanted.

John burst through the door. "Sherlock?" he looked around to find Sherlock on the couch. "Oh god... Sherlock!" He rushed to his side, oh no... He shoved his fingers into the others pulse point feeling for something, anything. There was a heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there. "God Sherlock! Can you hear me? Sherlock!"

Sherlock could barely sense the voice. It seemed far off and blurry. He couldn't tell who it was or what they were saying. He didn't want to be saved. Nothing mattered anymore. Without John there wasn't a reason for anything to matter. John had been his conductor of light. Now that it had faded out, he didn't want to walk away from this.

"Sherlock. It's John. I'm here. Can't you hear me?" He grabbed his shoulder shook him lightly. "Oh Sherlock." The dark haired man looked awful. He was burning up, his face pale and beaded with sweat his curls plastered to his forehead. His defined features looking hollow and dark, losing their natural beauty in the depth of the drug.

Sherlock heard the voice clearer now. He knew this voice. This was John. No. Not John. He didn't want John to remember him like this. Sherlock willed his eyes to open slightly. "J-John I-I-" Sherlock's voice cut out and his body fell slack. He was out. He had very little time left.

Somehow John knew this was his fault. There had to be some connection with him and what Sherlock had done. "Sherlock! Sherlock come back to me please!" John pleaded. He picked up his phone like he should have done the moment he got there and phoned Lestrade. When the DI picked up he practically yelled into the phone, "I NEED AN AMBULANCE NOW GREG. 221B NOW." He didn't even give time to hang up he just dropped the phone and put a hand to Sherlock's cheek.

Sherlock was surrounded by black once again. But this time there was nothing remotely solid for him to grip onto, he could feel himself slipping. He could no longer hear John in the distance, his head felt like it was underwater. There was a pressure on his whole body. He had nothing.

"Sherlock! Sherlock come back" For the first time since the fall John was crying. There were thick tears rolling down his cheeks. He placed both of his hands on either side of the man's face, his rough thumb pads on those perfect cheekbones. "Sh..sherlock, P..Please I'm Sorry..." He sobbed. "God I'm sorry, I love you damn it. You can't just leave. Don't you hear me? I love you!" He planted a kiss on his lips lightly, once, twice, before sobs started to rip through his chest, shaking his whole body, his head now resting on Sherlock's chest. "Sherlock, please." A few minutes later John could hear the wail of sirens coming closer.

Sherlock faded in and out. One moment he could be in the complete dark, silence dragging him in and the next he could hear what sounded like sirens but we're far too quiet and distant to seem fathomable. When he could think about anything he thought about John. Why was John there? John didn't actually care. John had left him.

"Sherlock Please!" John begged. "Sherlock stay with me. You can't leave. Not again. I need you!" The tears were coming harder now. John tried to stroke his cheeks lightly. Only he was having a hard time because his hands were shaking so bad. "Sherlock, Lestrade is coming with help. I'm here. Please... I..I love you I'm so sorry."

Sherlock felt hands on his cheek. It was moving quickly, in frantic movements. Who? Who would be worrying about him? These hands were much too large to be Mrs. Hudson's. Much too rough too. These hands they... they felt the size of John's… John's hands...

"Sherlock! It's John! Please!" He could hear the footsteps up the stairs. He kissed him again frantically. "Sherlock I'm sorry. If you can hear me... please god. I love you don't leave me."

Sherlock vaguely felt pressure on his lips. Had...had someone kissed him? He was very confused. Was he imagining all this?

Lestrade burst through the door of the flat to find John sobbing as he was hunched over Sherlock. Just behind him was two men with a stretcher.

"Get him in there now! N..now!" John sobbed not wanting to pull himself away but knowing he had too. "Sherlock, it's going to be alright. Sherlock Please hold on."

Sherlock felt himself slipping deeper. He could no longer force himself to sense any of the things around him. It was dark and….and quiet. His body was numb and his mind was starting to grow blurry as well. He tried to remind himself that this is what he wanted. This would take away all of the pain and hurt forever. That's what he wanted, to not have to deal with this any longer.

Before too long both John and Sherlock were packed in the back of one of the ambulances that had shown up. There wasn't much the workers in the back could do but try keep him on oxygen as they made their way to the hospital.

John had calmed down enough to take the initiative to grab Sherlock's hand and keep it firmly in his. He had to be quiet though. He knew ambulance protocol. He was a bloody doctor after all.

As he sat there squeezing Sherlock's hand he thought about how stupid he was. How dumb he had been, especially after Sherlock came back, to get so invested with someone else. God he actually loved this man in front of him. More than he could ever love his wife. This man had saved him, make his life loads better from the first minute. Now he was so stupid as to leave him alone and let him do this to himself. God was he stupid.

They arrived at the hospital and Sherlock was wheeled into the ER as fast as the men and women's feet would take them. John however wasn't allowed to follow.

Sherlock felt a pressure in his stomach. He knew what this meant. He wasn't going to get his wish. And he would have to deal with the punishment of his actions. He knew Mycroft wasn't going to just let this go.

John waited in the lobby. Lestrade had been sitting with him for a bit, but he had to get home to his wife as it was getting late.

"Keep me posted, yeah?" The DI said.

John just barely nodded. His wife... yeah. John had one of those, didn't he. Bloody hell he'd screwed up.

Sherlock was slowly starting to come to. He was so disappointed. He was positive now that he was not going to get his escape from the pain. He had nothing in this world to live for. Not without John. He still could not feel his limbs and it was still quiet but that could just be the hospital. God he didn't want this. He didn't want to feel like he would be able to open his eyes soon. He never wanted to do that again.

A doctor came out. "Friend or family?" He had asked John. But Watson didn't know how to answer. He wasn't family no. But, was he even allowed to be considered a friend?

When he finally got back there it was 3 in the morning and John was physically and emotionally drained. But he sat next to him and took his hand in his again. God he never wanted to let it go. He placed a gentle kiss on one of his knuckles then rested his head on the side of the bed. Knowing that Sherlock would not be coming to within the next couple hours, John drifted off to sleep for the night.

Around noon the next day, Sherlock was aware. He couldn't move and he couldn't speak. But he was aware. And he felt the hand that was holding his. He was confused. Who would be doing such an intimate thing? And to him, of all people?

John awoke and remembered where he was and gently stroked the rough pad of his thumb over the smooth skin of Sherlock's hand. His face resting on the edge of the bed and his eyes growing heavy. "I'm sorry Sherlock. Please don't leave me." John said quietly.

This... this was John. Sherlock felt his heart rate speed up therefore making the monitor beep faster. John... John was here... John was holding his hands... John kissed his hand... John... didn't want to lose him..?

John heard the heart rate monitor pick up and he picked his head up looking over at it then back to Sherlock. God he was going to be okay wasn't he.

Sherlock heard John's voice and tried to will himself to speak. But he couldn't move his mouth. He couldn't force his vocal chords to make a single sound. 'Dammit Sherlock! Say something!' He told himself.

John's heart sank a little but he stood up a bit and brushed away the hair that was sticking to Sherlock's forehead before placing a small kiss there. "I'll be here... I...I'll always be here Sherlock." He said resting his head back down again giving Sherlock's hand a squeeze.

Sherlock tried so hard to will his lips to move. To create words but he couldn't. He pushed his vocal chords to make noise and a small whimper-ish sound came out. That was all he could manage but he hoped it was enough.

John looked up again and smiled softly. The corner of his lips just barely tipping up. "Oh Sherlock. How could I ever be so stupid."

Sherlock's heart sped up again. What did John mean by that? What was he saying? God Sherlock was confused. He couldn't comprehend what he was hearing.

"I don't know if you can hear me but, I just. It took you almost... me almost losing you, twice for me to realize I've made a huge mistake. I..." He took a breath. "I love you Sherlock Holmes."

Sherlock's heart started racing. The monitor next to his bed was going crazy. John cared about him... John... John loves him... John loves him! God why was he incapable of speaking or moving? Why couldn't he tell John he loves him to and throw his arms around him and kiss him?

The beeping heart monitor proved Sherlock could hear him. John chuckled. "You're going to be alright. Don't strain yourself." John yawned and tangled his fingers in Sherlock's. "I'm sorry, I'm so stupid."

Regardless of John's words Sherlock continued to try to speak. He managed to gain control of his jaw. "J-John" Sherlock stuttered out, his voice raspy and heavy.

John sat up once again surprised. "Sherlock...Don't. Shh." he pressed a finger to the others lips, "you don't need to tell me how dumb I'm being I know."

"N-no. J-J-John. I-I lov-ve you-u t-t-too" Sherlock stuttered out rigidly.

John grinned, his stinging eyes being soothed by the tears that were now pricking the corners of them. "Oh Sherlock. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please forgive me."

~To be continued… maybe~


End file.
